The First Plunder
by tere moto the sentry
Summary: One shot. Stuck in a house together, Zim gives Dib an Irken history lesson to pass the time.


Disclaimer: Invader ZIM and related stuff belong to Jhonen Vasquez and Viacom. Except for some minor names, etc. that I made up.

A.N.: Happy third fan-iversary to me! This fic is dedicated to Plunderer 01, whose pen name inspired the title and story.

The First Plunder

"Zim? _Zim?_ Hey, Zim? Hey, tell me a story."

It was bar none the strangest thing the Irken had ever heard out of the human. Zim rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows to eye him tiredly. "…What?"

"Tell me a story," the boy repeated, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about posing such a request to one's mortal enemy.

"I was _sleeping_, pig-smelly."

"I thought Irkens didn't need to sleep," Dib got off his knees to sit properly on the couch.

"They do when the only other option is playing board games with Gir."

"He _does_ eat all the rooks in chess, I suppose," Dib admitted, "But now you have another option."

"Why ever would Zim tell you a stupid story, stupid monkey?" the alien honestly asked, "Why ever would you _want_ Zim to?"

Dib folded his hands. "I'm bored…and intellectually starved."

"Watch TV, then." As much as he hated it, Zim was feeling more and more like a human parent wanting some alone time.

"There's nothing on at this hour," the boy complained.

"Zim has no stories for you, so leave me alone." The irritated invader rolled back over onto his side and shut his eyes.

"Make one up then."

"As amazing and multi-talented as Zim is, I am a left-PAK like yourself."

"Well, even a bad story will do at this point," Dib urged, "I'm getting desperate."

Zim cracked open one eye. "You're almost worse than Gir. At least I could shut _him_ up with a taco…or a chess rook."

"Please?"

"Listen, human, Irkens don't sit around telling each other tales of exciting things. We go out and _do_ those things. This is why you humans are so behind in development."

"I guess it doesn't have to be fiction," Dib compromised, "In fact, I've always preferred true stories…How about a story from Irken history?"

The Irken opened both eyes fully. "Since when did you have an interest in our history?"

"Like I said, I'm desperate," the young one shrugged. "And maybe I could find some way to use it against you sometime."

Zim sat up on the couch and considered. "Well, I _do_ love to gloat about how much better I am than you… and I'm sure it will be a while before the house's lockdown ends. Very well, Dib-human, Zim shall honor you with a fascinating tale that shows Irk's superior history's…superiority." He leaned in slightly towards Dib's face. "I shall tell you of the _First Plunder_."

Dib raised a hand. "Will this story offend me on behalf of any innocents who fell to your corrupt Empire?"

"Yeah, probably," said Zim with a simple shrug, "I'm sure most of Irk's recorded history would offend you, with your filthy 'compassion'." He rolled his eyes on the last word.

Dib hesitantly indicated for him to continue.

"The First Plunder," the extra-terrestrial began, "is the start of the passionate Irken tradition of planetary conquest. It was many, _many_ years ago; about the time your Neanderthal ancestors were learning how to scratch their butts."

"Wait," the human interrupted, "How do you know about the Neanderthals?"

"It's called history class," the alien told him crossly, "Ms. Bitters teaches the same to you. You're not the only one who thought of using the enemy's history against him."

"Anyway," Zim went on, "this happened long before the universe was graced with the existence of the almighty Zim, but somehow the Irken race managed without me. This was about—oh—three to four dynasties before Tallest Miyuki's reign; in fact, the whole story starts when we elected our first Tallest."

His one-man audience leaned in closer. "Ooh, I'd love to see what gave you idiots the idea to base leadership on height."

Zim's eyes flared, but he remained calm, which unnerved Dib a little. "Perhaps this part of the story will make your feeble _Homo sapien_ brain meats understand the brilliance in such a government. When Irkens weren't as technologically advanced as we are now, an invader from the planet we much later found and named Tulgomplooxia (and then destroyed) came to Irk and claimed it as his own. Now Tulgomplooxians were _huge_—probably rivaling your…Giant Sequined trees."

"Giant Sequoia trees?"

"Zim knows what he speaks of! So then, this filthy alien lumbered around trying to destroy us, and then a brave Irken stepped forward, a very, very tall Irken by the name of…Yogurt." He spread his arms for emphasis.

Dib stared blankly at his storyteller. "…_Yogurt?_"

"It's an honorable name on my planet; shut up. So if I may go on, Yogurt was probably sixty of your fungal Earth feet. He stood up to the Tulgomplooxian filth, and he slaughtered it. Therefore, he was named the first ruler of Irk—Tallest Yogurt."

"That doesn't mean height makes a good leader in every situation."

"Fool!"

The human smirked. "So was he succeeded by Tallest Pudding?"

"Tallest _Custard_, thank you. Okay, maybe _this_ time I can continue _uninterrupted_. Tallest Yogurt's first order of business was to expand Irken territory. Soon the kingdom of Irk became the empire of Irk, and we passed the name on to the planet. But soon, we ran out of room to conquer, and by then we had developed space travel, so we went and conquered Tulgomplooxia. But their planet wasn't of any use to us, so we took all of its snacks and destroyed it. Then we went onto planet Schploochior and conquered it, renaming it 'Conventia'. We then set our sights further, taking the distant planet Blirgorchia and naming it 'Foodcourtia'."

"_Wait,_" Dib flew up to his knees. "You take over planets just as a _hobby_?"

"Yes, you little Gusqueegasplorch," Zim nodded testily, "In fact, I'm hoping the Tallest will rename Earth 'Wastedumpia'; that is, if they don't name it 'Zimia'."

Dib's eye twitched. "Why would you do that to innocent people anyway?"

"Because," Zim sighed, "We Irkens don't go for 'compassion'. It only gives us a weakness. We do not have 'friends'; they just distract us from worrying about ourselves. That's why we are so powerful and you aren't."

"Compassion is why so many of us humans survive. We help each other out."

"I would think you'd know by now that friends hold you back. Invaders need no one. I have no use for anyone's help."

"How many life-or-death scrapes have you been in again, where you could have used a friend's hand?"

The alien blinked. "Well…"

"How many planets _have_ you conquered by yourself, _Invader Zim_?"

"Uh…"

"You haven't conquered this one. And it's been almost two years."

"I—well…er, you're _smelly_!" the invader snapped. He hopped off from the couch, and with a sour but somewhat sheepish look, he stomped off for the kitchen. Dib thought he heard a mumbling of "I'm going to get some taquitos". A smile crept over the boy's face. He'd win this war yet.

A.N.: No, I did not make up "Gusqueegasplorch". It's from the series, actually. Though I'm not sure if I spelled it right…


End file.
